


hold and release

by towardsmorning



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, BDSM, Blindfolds, Gags, Light Bondage, M/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-20
Updated: 2016-04-20
Packaged: 2018-06-03 08:36:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6604159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/towardsmorning/pseuds/towardsmorning
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The blindfold goes on last; a little tight, digging in just behind his ears.</p>
            </blockquote>





	hold and release

**Author's Note:**

> Wow, it has been a VERY LONG TIME since I wrote some straight up filth. My apologies if I'm rusty. Done for a prompt asking for "Hamilton eating out a blindfolded, gagged, and tied up trans Burr."
> 
> Burr here is a trans dude who hasn't had lower surgery because it's what I most relate to with my own transition, and terminology used reflects typical "male" terms (basically, what Burr calls his dick is what a cis woman calls her clit) if you don't happen to be familiar with the that practice. This is just contextless modern AU porn, because that's my life right now. I've accepted that. Please note: this is kinky porn about a trans guy, but the trans guy isn't part of it being kinky, so don't bring that into it please. Don't get weird about it.
> 
> Warnings: BDSM stuff (pretty tame, all pre-negotiated), and be wary if this sort of sex sets off your dysphoria etc.

The blindfold goes on last; a little tight, digging in just behind his ears. Hamilton's hands fumbling at the back of his head as he ties it off. It's makeshift, some thin length of fabric Hamilton had dug out of a corner somewhere, and it's not ideal- a bit of light gets in if Aaron opens his eyes, so he doesn't. By contrast the gag and cuffs are the real thing, if a little cheap. Aaron flexes his wrists, pulses his tongue against the ball gag a couple of times and breathes in deeply through his nose once, twice, thrice.

Hamilton breaks the moment. "Three to tap out, remember?" he says, as though Aaron will have forgotten since the last four reminders. Aaron endeavours to roll his eyes beneath closed lids and nods, spreading his legs and settling back against the headboard. His arms already ache a little with the way he's cuffed, hands trapped awkwardly beneath him. Aaron keeps rubbing his wrists together and the sensation is captivating. He's so distracted by it he barely has any attention to spare for the way Hamilton is starting to stroke down his sides, a little lower each time. He tugs the cuffs apart, twists them, catches the chain in the middle and winds it around a finger to shorten it-

A sharp flick in the hollow at his hips brings him back to reality. "Wider," says Hamilton, with a swat on his rump for good measure. More noise than sensation- they'd tried smacking once, and Aaron hadn't seen the appeal at all. It echoes loudly in his ears, sharper for not being seen and anticipated. "Come on Burr," Hamilton says, starting to sound irritable, and Aaron relents, shifting as best he can with his hands still in that awkward, aching position. He curls his fingers round each other as Hamilton hooks an elbow under one knee and lets a hand wander upwards, his warm palm pressed to Aaron's thigh. He can hear Hamilton shimmying up the bed, then feel him exhaling against the crook of his hip, and there's a moment there with a scrape of teeth that catches Aaron off guard and has him suck against the gag before he realises he's doing it. It's small, his jaw is feeling all right, but even a small stretch gets him going; he bites down a little harder and the jolt goes right through his teeth. Hamilton snorts below him, probably indignant he isn't the centre of attention.

The noise Aaron lets out when Hamilton succumbs to impatience and gets his mouth on Aaron's dick is about as dignified as the drool collecting behind the gag; his eyes are still clenched shut under the blindfold and his hands are flexing in lieu of anything to grab. Hamilton's hair is in a ponytail; he wants to let it out, but his hands grab at nothing. Aaron goes to lean forward and nearly overbalances; he goes to lean back but the angle is wrong, the low headboard digging into his shoulder. Hamilton sucks hard twice and then brings his thumb up to stroke, or Aaron thinks it must be his thumb, the pad of it flat and callused as it circles him. Aaron wishes he could see, and even more wishes he could get a hand around to pull Hamilton, or maybe push him, or even just hold him. He wishes they hadn't gone with soft cuffs as he twists his wrists as hard as he can- though Hamilton had fretted in that distant, irritable way of his even so, about tightness and bruising. No chance there, he thinks. There's a hard pressure against his dick, the flat of teeth he thinks, and his hips twitch more than he wants them to in response. The heat going through him is slow, out of sync with Hamilton's movements, pulsing irregularly and catching Aaron off guard as Hamilton curls his tongue around and twists his thumb enough to burn a little.

Aaron leans his head against the wall and pushes down. He gets maybe two seconds of friction, Hamilton pushing back and grinding his face hard for a moment, absolutely perfect, and then there's a slick sound as he disengages and Hamilton is sliding back down the bed again. His breathing sounds a little louder than before, easy to pick up in the quiet room. Aaron can hear him as clear as day, maybe six inches away from where he was, and his body flushes hot as his senses narrow in on the sound. Hamilton sitting up, Aaron thinks, and he feels the sheet beneath him shift as he imagines Hamilton's movements rucking it up. Hamilton pulling off his shirt. Perhaps. That's a little harder to tell. It's quiet except for the hum of the AC and the now-slowing breaths. Aaron's thighs feel slick. He waits. He waits some more. He knocks his head back gently against the wall and breathes in through his mouth, past the gag, more drool escaping as he holds himself still as he can. He waits.

When Hamilton doesn't return or move or even just say something, the feeling of pressure that had been building prickles up Aaron's spine and into his throat. There's a moment when the urge to lurch forward to find Hamilton again is overpowering. His head thrums and he can feel his heartbeat through his teeth. His ears ring, and for the first time in their entire acquaintance, up to and including the parts they've been fucking for, Aaron is actually discontented with Hamilton's rare decision to shut up. His fingers start to twitch with the effort of staying still, and his toes curl without Aaron's permission.

"Huh," he hears, more a huff of air than anything. Hamilton doesn't sound particularly wrecked- just thoughtful. It makes Aaron feel peevish all of a sudden. Of course, normally Aaron would have been participating more actively than he can right now, holding himself as still as he can against the wall, tied up and- and waiting. Not lurching forward. Not hooking his leg and pulling Hamilton in. He could, but he doesn't, and he lets his thoughts skitter away from thinking about it for too long even as his dick throbs and he tries, desperately, to swallow around his gag. He chokes for a second, gag reflex succumbing, and that provides a welcome distraction from what Aaron knows to be a thoughtful silence.

Hamilton settles back down as Aaron regains control, thank God. The effort he must be putting into not talking makes Aaron steadfastly refuse to so much as cant his hips forward, even as he feels the slightest warmth and dampness on his cock every time Hamilton breathes out, propped up a few inches away. Aaron shifts a leg just slightly, muscles burning. The sheet below him is starting to feel uncomfortably damp. His eyes ache. His thighs are still slick and the cool air against them makes him shiver as the moment stretches out. He has a clock in his bedroom, a large, old-fashioned piece- tick, tick, tick. He tries to count them and loses track.

Hamilton finally puts his hands back on Aaron's thighs and he barely manages to restrain himself from whining. Hamilton finally puts his mouth back on Aaron's dick- and much to Aaron's annoyance, he _doesn't_ manage that time. Not being able to see makes it easy to imagine Hamilton's self-satisfied expression. The image mingles with the traitorous thought that Hamilton is earning the self-satisfaction right now. His tongue points and Aaron spits out an almost well-rounded curse around the gag. His tongue flattens, and Aaron pulls his wrists apart, straining. Hamilton's characteristic impatience begins to win out and he presses closer, snaking both arms underneath him as he grinds against Aaron again, sloppier this time, his panting beginning to mix with slicker sounds. His nose bumps Aaron's cock and this time, when Aaron pushes down, Hamilton doesn't pull away- he groans, and presses as close as he can, while Aaron shakes and curls over on himself.

When Aaron comes, he doesn't feel the onset- just a sudden pressure that sets him spasming, biting down so hard and fast his abused jaw cracks and trying desperately not to clamp his legs over Hamilton's neck, washing through him in fits and starts.

Almost before he finishes riding it out, Hamilton's mouth still on him, Aaron scrambles up as best he can and knocks against the headboard three times; it's no emergency, but Hamilton can do this all day and Aaron doesn't know if he can keep his dignity if he lets him. There's a slick noise as Hamilton pulls himself away, and then he feels hands coming around to unbuckle the gag, sliding it out as Aaron gasps for breath and fights to stay upright.

"Blindfold?" Hamilton asks, a little out of breath and husky but all business. Aaron shakes his head and jerks his shoulders, frowning at his own inability to speak- but Hamilton reaches around neatly and plucks the key off the nightstand, unlocking the cuffs without hesitation and reaching around to unbuckle the gag.

Aaron tentatively feels for bruising; there might be some, he thinks, satisfied. Without much wanting to he finds himself starting to slide down the headboard, grimacing as he comes into contact with more of the wet patch. The bed is too small for them both, really- it'll have to do. He can't be bothered to move.

"Blindfold?" Hamilton responds, a little irritable at the delay- his after-care manner is about as good as his day-to-day manner, which is to say, Aaron tries not to think of it as endearing when sentimentality or afterglow-induced endorphins strike.

"Wait a minute," Aaron says, because it's still light out and his eyes will object, and because when he settles his head on Hamilton's still-clothed leg to keep off the damp sheets, Hamilton lapses back into an uncharacteristic quiet, and Aaron counts his still uneven breaths, loud in the darkness.

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, so it may be obvious I care more for kink in itself than the sex, per se. Oops. Oh well.


End file.
